Agents of STARS
by Foopar
Summary: S.T.A.R.S. Special Tactics and Rescue Squad. A highly trained sqadron of elite officers tasked with dealing with situations the regular police can't. Learn about their story, their adventures and past explots, and all the zany antics they get up too.


Well, this was it.

"You ready?"

He feels Barry's hand pat him on his shoulder assuringly, that warm "aww shucks" smile of his never fading.

"I don't know Barry, if this Wesker guy is as bad as you say, it may be best to just turn back now."

Barry lets out a hardy chuckle at that, his voice booming all throughout the small garden they currently inhabited, not to disimilar to an actual bear.

"Wesker's not so bad once you get used to him. C'mon Chris I'm sure you'll do fine." Without leaving room for further debate, Barry strongarms Chris along, through the garden and up to the front entrance of the RPD building. Chris can only catch a passing glance at the outside before the doors are thrusted open, and his gaze is immediately stolen by the architctural wonder before him.

The building was _huge! _In every sense of the word! The dark, gothic-style decor only serving to further extentuate the vast space before him. There was a large marble statue directly in front of him, a goddess serving water. It was extravagant, to say the least. Looking straight up, he'd see that the building went on for far longer then you'd expect from looking at the outside.

It was _magnificent!_

"Heh, pretty impressive eh?"

It's not until Barry's voice tears him from his throughts does Chris notice his mouth his agape in awe.

"I'd say so..." He mutters in response.

Chris was not a patient man. Not in anyway at all could he possibly be considered patient. Add that with the way this 'Albert Wesker' is staring at him, and he could just barely refrain from biting his nails.

Ok, so Wesker wasn't actually _looking _at Chris, but he might as well of been. This guy almost seemed to let off an aura, one that would forever ensnare you in it's claws and never give you respite. He was intensely focused on the papers in front of him, but regardless, he made Chris just as nervous as he would of been if they were having a stare off. The fact that he refused to take those sunglasses off didn't exactly help out either.

Just as Chris's anxiety reaches it's peak, Wesker lets out an audible sigh, and finally looks up.

"Yes?" He asks, with Chris just barely detecting a tinge of an accent; British maybe?

"Uh, yes I uh-"  
>"You, 'uh'?" Wesker asks, staring Chris dead in the eye. Chris was wrong, having a stare off with Wesker was <em>far<em> worse then just standing next to him.

A long moment passes in silence, neither man daring to say anything. Finally, Wesker lets out another sigh, and stands up from his desk.

"You are Chris Redfield, I presume?" Wesker asks as he begins to walk around the small office, surveying the troops. Chris immediately notices that all eyes which were once on him and Wesker, immediately fall down to their desks, shuffling papers and triffling through desks.

"... Oh uh, y-yes..." Chris finally replies once Wesker begins glaring at him.

"Aww, c'mon Chris jeez! What's wrong with you!" He mentally scolds himself. "So much for first impressions."

"Barry!" Wesker suddenly calls. Barry, one of the few people genuinely working, (if you call dissassambling and reassembling a gun over and over again work) looks up upon hearing his name being called.

"_This_ is the man you were talking so highly of?" Wesker asks as if Chris wasn't even there. Chris had to admit, the amount of condensation in Weskers voice made his heart sink.

"I assure you sir, Chris would be nothing but a benefit to have on our team. He's been in the Air Force, he's already got plenty of training and experience, not to mention he's the best damn shot I've ever seen." Barry says, full of pride for his old friend.

"Hmm, yes, he seems to have the physical prowess," Wesker says. "But that won't do him any good if he lacks the mental qualifications too effectively put them to use."

"...Hey!" Chris nearly shouts. Did this guy forget he was standing right freaking next him!

"Hmm? Ah yes you," Wesker says as he turns to face Chris. "You seem highly reccomended Chris, but I'd like to issue an IQ test before I seriously consider recruiting you."

_Clank!_

That was the sound of Chris's jaw hitting the floor.

"Are you serious!" He practically screams.

"Yes." Wesker replies, not even batting a lash, and if he did you'd never see behind those damn sunglasses.

"Why you-"

"Chris!" Barry, quickly grabs Chris before the situation can further escalate.

"Chris calm down!" The man whispers into his ear.

"Now wait just a minute Barry," Wesker says as he approaches, hands folded behind his back. No one was bothering to pretend to work anymore, all eyes were on them now.

"Lets give the man a chance." Surprisingly, Wesker smirks. This caught Chris completely off guard. But just as suddenly as it appeared, it fades away.

"I'll make you a deal Chris. If you can stay on your feet, for three minutes against me, I'll let you join the team."

"Just stay on my feet for three minutes?" Chris asks incredulously. "That's it? And you'll let me join?"

"Now you didn't let me finish," Wesker says as he raises a finger. "If you should _fail _to stay on your feet, you shall take the IQ test willingly, and we'll go from there."

Oh, now Chris was mad. This guy was mocking him right to his face! Calling him stupid, _sure_ that Chris would get taken down, then fail the IQ test, and then look stupid in front of the hot girl in the blue hat. But Chris would show him! Chris was gonna show this cocky bastard who's the boss! Without another word, Chris brushes Barry aside, and gets into a fighting stance. Wesker just chuckles.

"You have no idea how to fight do you?" He asks. Chris opens his mouth to speak, but cannot think of what to say. Without warning, Wesker comes at him, grabbing his hands and repositioning them, then kicking both his feet farther apart. Chris stumbles as the smaller man easily manhandles him, making him look like a fool.

"There," Wesker states as he steps back. "That's better. Now maybe you can last more then one move."

Chris once again opened his mouth to speak, but formed no words, to stunned to say anything. He could barely keep his balance in the position Wesker put him in, and he was afraid he would fall over at any minute. And there's that damn smirk again!

"Well then, I do believe it's high time we start," Wesker gets into his own position, this one much more contrived then Chris's. Judo, maybe? Ah, Chris didn't know and he didn't care. He was gonna take this guy down and teach him not to mess with Chris Redfie-!

"WOAH!"

Pain erupted through Chris's body as he is sent flying bodily across the room, his entire being lifted off the ground by one attack. What was with this guy! Chris didn't even see him coming! Next thing ya know Chris had a palm thrust into his stomach. Damn he was stronger then he looked!

But Chris wouldn't take it. No! He wouldn't let this guy make a fool out of him. With newfound determination, Chris tucks his legs into his chest, and using the momentum of the hit, flips fully in the air, landing perfectly on his feet.

An overwhelming sense of pride fills him at his newfound badassness, and looking around the room, he can see he's not the only one impressed. The girl in the blue burrete is staring at him in awe, and the only word to summarize the thoughts running through Chris's mind at that moment would be "giggity."

Everyone was watching in awe, whispering, on the verge of cheering. Everyone except Wesker. He just kept smirking!

"Heh," He relaxes his posture, getting out of his fighting stance.

"Giving up?" Chris asks, returning the smirk.

"Oh far from it Mr. Redfield," He begins. "There's nothing _to _give up; it's over. I've won."

"Wha-!" Chris's once proud smirk is replaced by a face reminiscent of someone who just walked into their parents room during a storm.

"The deal was you had to stay _on your feet." _Wesker gestures to said feet. "I'm afraid backflipping involves lifting your feet off the ground, hence, _I've won._"

Chris's face is a contusion of utter terror and pure humiliation at that point. He looks towards Barry who's doing an epic facepalm, then to the blue burette girl who's looking just as disapointed as he is. Slowly, as the whispers fade out, everyone turns back to their work, leaving Chris alone.

With Wesker.

Staring at him.

Smirking.

"Now then," Wesker begins as he makes his way past the still stunned Chris, and to his desk.

"About that IQ test,"


End file.
